Hermione Granger and the Knights of Walpurgis
by bloomsburry
Summary: Dumbledore sent Hermione back forty-five years in the past, in a particular time and place that would be very convenient for her. And by convenient, Dumbledore meant sending her right in the middle, when Tom Riddle and his first Death Eaters were still soaking in the hot spring. ALL WET AND NAKED. Hermione nearly had an aneurysm the moment she saw them.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Notes:**_ I'm really pissed right now. Someone hacked in both my AO3 and fanfiction account to delete some of my stories that has garnered considerably numbers of following. And now I'm back to zero again...ggrrr...I hope to be updating this soon once again.

* * *

 _ **Year 1996**_

Harry Potter disappeared during the Triwizard Tournament.

They never knew what happened to him, nor did they find him (or his body) despite the Ministry sending a team of Aurors to search for his whereabouts.

He just simply disappeared.

Gone like a whiff of smoke.

Probably even dead…

Of course, this was confirmed when Voldemort silently took over the Ministry within a year. Whispers of his resurrection had not started until eight months after Harry's disappearance.

But by then, it had already been too late.

Harry Potter, the chosen one, was dead.

Dumbledore's hope to defeat the Dark Lord using Harry was no longer an option.

Hence, the headmaster had turned to the next best thing to do the job for him.

Hermione Granger.

 _Her._

At seventeen, Hermione was given the task to do what should have been done a long time ago: Defeat Voldemort while his power and influence was still gaining momentum.

In short, Hermione had to go back in time and sabotage Voldemort's plans.

Nonetheless, since time-turners could go no further than forty-five years in the past, Dumbledore had taken it upon himself to ensure that Hermione would go exactly where she needed to go.

With the help of some blood magic, and some vital information from one of Voldemort's first Death Eaters - Llyod Nott, who had been a traveling companion along with five others during Voldemort's rise to power, Dumbledore had thereafter whipped out a complicated series of magical spells and runic algorithms to send Hermione forty-five years in the past, in a particular time and place that would be very convenient for her.

By convenient, Dumbledore meant sending her somewhere right in the middle of the snake's den.

The old man had also failed to mention that he had to transport her in a place where all seven men had been vulnerable and defenceless.

Certainly, they were without wands at the time, and would be rather easy for Hermione to handle... but still...Dumbledore should have warned her about the amount of naked flesh that she would see the instant she arrived.

* * *

 _ **Gunma Prefecture, Japan**_

 _ **Inside the Kusatsu Onsen**_

 _ **April 1951 (Spring Season)**_

Hermione nearly had an aneurysm when she saw the seven men sitting there and soaking in the hot spring. All NAKED and calmly talking about world domination and how many people they had killed or tortured so far, like they were simply talking about the weather.

Fortunately for Hermione, the effects of Dumbledore's spell had rendered her invisible to them, which allowed her the time to recover from the shock of seeing seven naked men - seven _dangerous_ and naked men at that.

But unfortunately for her, she had to do something first before she could do a victory dance for successfully arriving in the planned location. She remembered what Dumbledore had told her before she departed.

 _"You will only have a minute to finish the spell, Miss Granger. Use the knife to anchor yourself to that time with the blood magic that I taught you. You will find Voldemort and his first Death Eaters upon your arrival, immediately take their blood to ensure that you will remain there. If you do not accomplish this within the time frame, I fear that you would cease to exist completely... Consider yourself warned, Miss Granger."_

Hermione recalled every word. Her hands shook, and she felt slightly apprehensive when she moved towards the seven men submerged in the hot spring. She could see their bare masculine chests peeking above the water, where a tendril of steam rose up from the surface and filled the area with moist, hot air.

They were talking to each other, but they remained oblivious to her presence when Hermione neared them.

She took a deep breath and started to count the seconds.

Tom Riddle was sitting in the middle with six others on either side of him.

With his wavy dark locks wet from the water, Hermione couldn't help but stare at the handsome face of the man who had killed her best friend.

Suddenly, Hermione had the overwhelming urge to send an immobilizing curse at the future Dark Lord and wondered if he could drown or if he would end up paralyzed at the bottom of the onsen.

But for her to do that, she needed her magic, which she didn't have at the moment.

The seconds were passing quickly. Her time was running out.

For that reason alone, Hermione must hurry up and perform the ritual, or she'd end up becoming non-existent.

As much as she wanted to use the knife and end them where they sit, the magical blade could only nick their skin to draw the blood, and no more than that.

Hermione was living on borrowed time. The men could not see her because she still didn't exist to them. She was like a ghost, a shade, and the only way for her to be on the same level of existence as them - and also wield her magic - was to use their magical bloodlines to anchor herself to their time.

If she didn't get this done in a hurry, she would simply disappear. Her mission would be for naught; plus Dumbledore would be pissed at her if she failed.

As she drew closer and closer to the men, Hermione was relieved that the water wasn't translucent, because she seriously didn't want to see anything that her panicking mind couldn't handle. Seeing Voldemort and his six Death Eaters soaking in a hot spring was enough to give her an apoplexy.

One of them was talking, while the rest were listening. Hermione's eyes surveyed the other six, and she had to grudgingly admit that they weren't all bad looking either, even though she knew that they were definitely evil to the core.

Indeed, they were an impressive assortment of influential heirs from the prominent pureblood families. Now in their mid-twenties, they didn't look like the teenagers she had seen in Slughorn's memory that Dumbledore had obtained.

At a glance, Tom Riddle certainly didn't waste his time in gathering powerful followers who had the same charm and looks as he had. Aside from their family connections, Riddle probably had his Death Eaters cultivate those attractive qualities to manipulate people to their own ends.

"You should have seen how the muggle begged, my Lord," a blonde man was saying, a golden blonde compared to the other one sitting beside him, who was definitely a Malfoy, with that curly, shoulder-length platinum blonde hair.

 _The_ Abraxas Malfoy. It was clear Lucius took after his father. The man's face was a thing of beauty, but like his son, his heart must be made of stone.

The other blonde - the one who was talking - must be Fabian Avery.

"He was screaming like a bloody girl when I tore off his nails with the denailing curse. He even wet himself after that..." Avery suddenly laughed at his own words, a great barking sound that made Hermione shiver from the sound of it.

The blonde looked quite pleased as he glanced towards the silent man, who had his arms extended and propped up on the the stone brim on either side of him; cobalt-blue eyes coolly assessing the other six men who was there, and listening carefully like the rest.

Tom Riddle didn't resemble the gangly teenager she had seen in the memory that Dumbledore had shown her in the pensieve.

No, he looked like a man in his prime. Devastatingly handsome with a pair of lapis lazuli eyes, which were hooded by thick, sooty lashes. He had an aquiline nose; straight and long, with the right thinness on the bridge; prominent cheekbones, a finely-moulded mouth with a full lower lip; and lastly, a strong jaw marked by a cleft in the middle.

The future Dark Lord looked perfect, deceptively so because Hermione knew what lurked beneath his handsome mask. The disguise he donned so well concealed a terrifying monster.

"Were you able to acquire what we wanted from him, Avery?" Tom Riddle asked while Hermione hurriedly knelt on the stone path right behind the three men who leaned against it.

She ignored the fact that they were all broad shouldered and leanly muscled. Even more when she noted their golden skin, which they had probably obtained from their long travels.

The men were still unaware of her existence. Counting the time in her mind, she realized that she had thirty seconds left to feed the dagger with their blood.

She knew she had to work quickly.

The first one she took blood from didn't so much as flinch, but he did shrug his shoulders afterwards like he was shaking off a fly. It was a man with reddish brown hair - Theodore Nott's grandfather, Llyod Nott.

The person that had made it possible for her to travel to this time and place. He had provided Dumbledore this certain memory, but not without the use of coercion.

Hermione was moving again, more urgently, and all the while carefully listening to the men's conversation.

" -He was no longer adamant about giving us a part of his vast holdings in the Nagano Prefecture, which I might add, is located conveniently near the Nagano River. Weren't you looking for freshly caught Kappas, my Lord? I hear that there are more of those monkey-like water dwellers in those parts. Perhaps we-"

"Mulciber had already captured one for me, and has harvested the necessary organs. There's no need to bother with capturing another. In the meantime, I want to know what you did with the muggle businessman after you were done with him."

Hermione went to the next person, cutting him on the shoulder. Like the first man, this one didn't even move as Hermione fed his blood into her blade. If she guessed correctly, this person must be Benjamin Lestrange - a well-known masochist, and the youngest of the group.

She moved to the next man, someone with shoulder-length black hair, Edmund Rosier. Hermione deduced. She hastily swiped her dagger out which was now pulsing with a dark blue light.

She had less than fifteen seconds left.

"I burnt him alive and disposed of his ashes, my lord."

"I hope that you did a thorough job at cleaning up, Avery. I don't want any of the Japanese Magical Law Enforcement nipping at our heels until we leave the country. It would be rather... _limiting_."

"Of course, my Lord. The muggle's remains had been scattered to the winds, and there weren't any eye-witnesses around when I did it," Avery responded with a laugh.

However, his laughter was abruptly cut short when Hermione nicked him with the dagger.

She got an immense satisfaction from seeing him jerk upright and exclaim,

"What in the-!", just right before the blonde man turned and looked directly at her.

At once, Hermione froze on the spot with her heart pounding loudly against her chest. She was kneeling on the stone path that surrounding the hot spring, which had allowed her to circumnavigate around the men and collect their blood.

There was a frown marring on Avery's brows while he rubbed the area where Hermione had cut. Yet the blonde did not see her.

Sighing in relief at the realization, Hermione began moving again towards the next man.

When Fabian Avery saw nothing there, he turned his head back to his comrades, who gazed at him with curiosity.

"Why were you yelling?"

"Nothing... I thought something bit me. It must be a-"

"OUCH!"

"Bloody hell!"

Hermione nicked both Abraxas Malfoy and the man with sleek brown hair in haste, not intending to waste any more time. Their loud exclamations had drawn the other men's attention.

She noted the sense of wariness, confusion and uneasiness playing across their faces.

"What's going on?!" Riddle was asking while Hermione moved towards him. She had purposely left him for last.

Needing his blood as much as the other six, Hermione drew the dagger against the side of his neck as she knelt low behind him.

With Riddle just in her reach and unaware of her presence, a part of Hermione wanted to see him bleed, and perhaps a deep, angry part of her wanted to see if the dagger would allow her to cut his carotid vein and be done with him.

So, after pressing the dagger hard on the side of Riddle's neck, Hermione slashed swiftly, steeling herself for the sight of blood. To Hermione's extreme disappointment, the dagger merely left a thin and shallow slice mark on Riddle's neck. It didn't even cut deeply into his skin, although the alarmed look on Tom Riddle's face upon discovering the wound was well worth it.

He looked confused at first when he touched his fingers towards his neck and it came out speckled with blood. From confusion it turned to alarm and fright at the fact that he was actually bleeding from an unexplained cut.

Then, his eyes widened slightly as if he finally comprehended something, and immediately shouted to the other men there.

"SOMEONE IS HERE WITH US!"

And just like that, all hell broke loose, the seven men sprang into action - all in their wet, naked glory, splashing and shouting in the waist deep waters.

"WHAT?!"

"I knew it! I felt the wind shifting behind me right before I felt like something bite my shoulder!"

"THEY MUST BE USING A DISILLUSIONMENT CHARM TO HIDE THEIR PRESENCE!"

"CREEPY FREAK!"

They were yelling as they scrambled to their feet. The sight of them seared Hermione's retinas. She might as well have spontaneously combusted from the amount of flesh revealed to her.

 _SHITE!_ She thought averting her gaze, but it was already too late. She had seen enough to last her a lifetime. She was fairly certain life as a nun would suit her.

With her face suffused with colour, she tried to complete the ritual. She sliced her palm open with the dagger, allowing the dagger to suck her life's blood while she started chanting.

Hermione pointedly ignored the men who had now started shouting and cursing at her, looking this way and that, trying to find her while they covered themselves with their hands.

 _ **"Redacti sunt hoc tempore,"**_ Hermione recited the spell, trying not to get distracted by the shouts and the wet and glistening men not too far away from her.

"SHOW YOURSELF YOU LITTLE SHITE!" Clifford Mulciber yelled, nearly stumbling up to his feet while his hands covered his family jewels.

Hermione continued without stopping, _**"Tenentur eis ad me..."**_

"WHOEVER YOU ARE! WE ARE GOING TO FUCKIN' KILL YOU, DO YOU HEAR?!" Fabian Avery added with a shout, his bare butt rose above the water, pale unlike the rest of him, as he hastily waded through the water, whipping his head around.

"WAIT UNTIL WE GET OUR HANDS ON YOU, YOU LOWLIFE!" Llyod Nott roared, standing back to back along with the others who had stood up as if preparing for an attack.

"YOU ARE AS GOOD AS DEAD FOR TRESPASSING ON OUR PRIVACY!" Edmund Rosier was shouting, at the same time Riddle was saying loudly, "Who are you to dare to come to our den?!"

"We booked this Hot Spring Resort! How in Merlin's pants are you even here, you - you invisible pervert!" Abraxas Malfoy sputtered in indignation, sounding like an affronted maiden and resembling one with his face flushed red.

Meanwhile, Benjamin Lestrange was hollering, "HENTAI! HENTAI!" as if he assumed she was Japanese or something.

Hermione would have laughed out loud at the sight of them standing in a tight circle, shoulder to shoulder, with their hands covering their male bits and surveying the area with wild, vigilant eyes.

They waited for her to respond, but Hermione didn't because she was still busy completing the ritual.

Her silence, however, had the men all agitated. They continued shouting and yelling at her once more, her lack of response clearly feeding their fury and fear.

"Where are you?!"

"We know you are still in here! Show yourself!"

"Yes, show yourself! And fight us like a man, you craven bastard!"

Still, Hermione remained silent and invisible to them, while she hurried to finish the spell.

She had six seconds left.

 _ **"Tempus et spatium flexuram..."**_

Even if she did talk, they probably wouldn't be able to hear her at all. As far as Hermione knew, the only thing that she could use was the dagger. Everything around her would remain intangible until she completed the ritual.

 _ **"Et mihi eos agitent..."**_

As it turned out, in the end, Hermione must have botched the ritual because for some reason, the men couldn't see her, and her magic remained unresponsive when she tried to cast a spell, even after a whole minute had elapsed.

Likewise everything she possessed - from her wand, to the clothes on her back and to the small, maroon purse that she carried - were all invisible.

And speaking of clothes, Dumbledore hadn't been kidding at all when he had said that he had planned to equip her with a full battle gear for her mission. Hermione had no choice but to don the entire thing that had been fitted solely for her, because almost all of the Order members had made a particular contributions to her entire get-up, as a parting gift of some sort, which they believed would serve well for her mission if she ended up running for her life.

 _"We are at war, Miss Granger, and war makes heartless men out of even the most noblest of people."_ Those exact words kept echoing from the recess of Hermione's mind, which she remembered Dumbledore saying to her at one point, but she failed to recall when it was and what had transpired prior to that.

 _"There are tough choices that a man in power must do in times of war, and making certain sacrifices are one of them. To save many, you must sacrifice a few, and Harry Potter was one such sacrifice."_

Thus, most of the Order members had helped her prepare for her mission and put her under a ruthless training regime, despite the fact that some of them had initial misgivings, namely: Severus Snape, Charlie Weasley, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, while the women had protested in the sidelines, more specifically Molly Weasley.

The rest of the Order members, on the other hand, were more amenable in imparting certain aspects of their profession. Mad-Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt put her under a harsh Auror training for seven months, placing her together with Neville, Ginny, Ron, Fred, George, Bill and other new trustworthy members, like Luna Lovegood.

Moody and Shacklebolt had purposely accelerated their training program to prepare them for the oncoming war. The two seasoned Aurors termed them as child soldiers of their generation.

Throughout their training, Hermione had gotten close to the others as well, especially Neville, whom Hermione suspected Dumbledore was going to use as another sacrificial lamb for the war; a reserve or a spare to either hers or Harry's position.

This fact alone angered Hermione greatly, but Neville had always been ready to assure her that he was willing to step into whatever role that Dumbledore had set up for him, in able to save the Wizarding World, which had been in desperate need of a savior.

Hence, Hermione could only watch him do what he believed he must do. She watched him grow strong and become more determined with every obstacle that the Order members had thrown at them. And when the moment Dumbledore started mentoring Neville himself, like the old man had done to Harry previously, Hermione vowed that she would complete her mission in the past and stop the war from ever happening, and prevent Neville and the Order members from becoming the necessary sacrifices that Dumbledore didn't mind expending.

That's why Dumbledore had sent her in the past without as much as a protest from her. And the clothes that Dumbledore had fitted her with were testament to how deeply the old man had been afraid of losing the war in the future.

Currently, Hermione wore a pair of black lightweight pants; a dark green dragonhide vest on top of her black long sleeve shirt; finger-less dragonhide gloves (of the same colour) that reached up to her elbows, where a wand holster was attached to her right glove, and a hidden mechanism on the left that would release three specific vials of either a Veritaserum, a Dittany or an Undetectable Poison right into her left hand.

She also wore a pair of comfortable dragonhide boots that nearly reached up to her knees and covered most of her pants, and with similar hidden mechanism that Fred and George and Charlie had created for her. There was a special black hair-tie to keep her wild, chestnut curls out of her face, plus the other things that she carried inside her small, maroon purse that hang from the belt secured on her waist. The purse contained more of the things that the other Order members had asked her to carry.

Fred and George had given her useful items that she could use for diversion or evasion tactics while Snape had brewed a variety of potions for her, ranging from blood replenishing potion, Bloodroot poison and to the most complicated one; the Polyjuice potion.

Meanwhile, Professor Lupin had given her a sealed envelope, which she had been ordered to only open by full-moon, whereas Sirius Black had provided her with the latest broomstick and a special mirror in the hopes that she would be able to communicate with the Order from the past. Inwardly, Hermione highly doubted about the possibility of it happening.

The Heir Apparent of the House of Black had been a great help in teaching her how to fly a broom. Other than learning the basic muggle self-defence in Auror training, the Order members had made certain that they were prepared for a sky battle. Although she was not as good as Harry had been - or Ginny - who had taken to flying like a pro.

On the other hand, the one who tailored her dragonhide ensemble was Charlie Weasley, and the twins had helped him design the hidden mechanisms in the gear.

Additionally,Charlie had fashioned her clothing after the Dragon Keepers of Ukraine, where she remembered they wore specialized boots that would allow them to stick unto the Dragon's back while they cleaned or ride the magnificent creatures for flying exercises. Charlie had been adamant that she wore them before she had left. The man can be overbearing sometimes but she rather like him for his concern.

There were other items that Hermione had received, like the goblin-forged dagger she was using, which was given to her by Bill Weasley. The rest was stashed safely inside her purse, or concealed within the folds or pockets of her clothing.

All the same, the things with her remained invisible. Perhaps it might be due to the fact that all her personal effects hadn't been created yet that it remained incorporeal?

 _Have I become non-existent somehow?_ Hermione worried, dread and fear churned at the pit of her belly, like an acid that was bound to cause her a stomach ulcer in the near future.

Yet the tugging sensation in her heart told her a different story, indicating that she was connected to that time in the way Professor Dumbledore had told her to expect.

Nonetheless, she was now unsure what Dumbledore had truly wanted her to do in that time because the old man definitely didn't tell her the entirety of her mission details.

Faced with this new problem, Hermione's stomach roiled due to her rising anxiety.

 _Damn Dumbledore for providing me with so little information!_ She mentally grumbled.

Nibbling her lower lip, Hermione hastily put the dagger away. Her hand shook slightly as the weapon - made of silver - dropped into her purse, which had been secretly enlarged from within using a nifty extension charm.

Once that was done, she turned her attention back to the men who were still making idle threats toward her.

"- skewer you like a - like a shish kabab!-" Benjamin Lestrange was saying, at the same time Clifford Mulciber said, "- skinning you alive will not be enough to satisfy me -"

Not wanting to be bested by the other men, Abraxas Malfoy joined into the ongoing threats as well, "I will blast you into smithereens, and feed your bits and pieces to my peacock and-"

"You don't have a fuckin' peacock, Malfoy!" Llyod Nott interjected in annoyance.

To which Malfoy responded in a nonplussed tone, "That can be remedied once we get to India -"

"We are certainly not going to stop by at the apothecary for you to- !" Avery was about to say when Riddle interrupted.

"Silence! All of you!" Riddle ordered sharply, stopping them before it could turn into an argument.

Hermione had a difficult time looking at all of them, especially at Riddle.

Yes, especially at _Voldemort._

 _I didn't know that the Dark Lord was hot as a_ \- came her unbidden thought. However, when she realized that she was openly ogling Riddle's broad shoulders, toned arms and sculpted chest, her eyes swiftly skittered away, silently cursing herself for easily getting distracted.

"And Abraxas, you're not going to use our funds to buy your precious peacock! Now listen!" Hermione heard Riddle say and all the men fell silent at once.

With her ears trained towards them, she slowly stood up, her gaze sweeping over the area and looking for the nearest exit.

Since she didn't know how long her invisibility would last, it was better if she prepared herself for any possible scenarios, which included making a wise retreat from there and avoid getting caught by any of the men.

Judging from the darkness that she could see beyond the screen of cropped bamboos that circled around the hot spring, Hermione perceived that it was nighttime.

Meanwhile, to her far right, she caught sight of an open doorway with a big, blue cloth hanging half-way from the door frame. Given that there was no door that she could see, Hermione guessed that the cloth serve as sort of a door and to provide a sense of privacy for the people who were bathing inside; the same purpose as the barricade of bamboos that screened the hot spring and separated the women's bath from the men.

"We need to move out of here and get our wands from the locker room, or we will remain wide open for an attack. Now, move it!" Riddle said in a tone that brooked no argument, and upon hearing his words about their wands being left somewhere, Hermione was rather surprised – and a bit bemused - by this astonishing fact.

 _What utter fools they were for doing such a thing. Or perhaps they had been too confident with their combined strength that they had never expected an attack in here?_

Finally, she knew why Dumbledore had sent her to that specific time and place, unfortunately for her, apart from being a silent and unseen spectator or like a peeping-Tom as some of the men assumed, she couldn't do anything more at the moment.

Hearing the sounds of water splashing and more cursing from behind her, Hermione couldn't resist looking around.

Apparently, the men did what Riddle had commanded, because the instant she whipped her head in their direction, she was presented by the sight of them hauling themselves up from the water.

With water droplets trickling down their bodies, wet hair plastered to the sides of their attractive faces, and with their lean muscles rippling as they half-bolted and half-stumbled out of there, Hermione nearly tipped over the hot spring when she stared at them with her mouth gaping open.

At that point, she had a difficult time averting her gaze at the tantalizing images of the finest male specimens that she had ever laid eyes on.

Shock was the understatement of the year.

Hermione could feel her cheeks burning while within the confines of her mind, these words ran like a mantra, _They're evil! They're a bunch of power-hungry bastards! They're hot, evil, sadistic son-of-morgana's! I mean, they're hot - I mean - GAH!_

One by one - or by twos - the men exited through the doorway with a blue flap that had a bold Japanese character printed on it, where they pushed the cloth aside to exit the premises.

She felt as though her eyes needed a thorough scrubbing after she watched them scurry away - buck naked - to retrieve their wands, which they had unthinkingly left at some other place.

Riddle was the last to rise up from the water like a friggin' Dark God.

Like Hades rising up from the river of fire, Phlegethon.

In super-slow motion, truly _super slow_ , the Dark Lord stepped out from the hot spring, his entire skin glistening with water, which she noticed looked darker in contrast to what she remembered him sporting in his teen years.

Mayhap gallivanting around the world had other benefits after all - besides learning different kinds of dark magic, spreading his influence and gaining more allies or followers - perhaps getting a tan from the constant sun exposure had been one of them, too.

Riddle stood there wet and exposed for Hermione's eyes to feast on.

And feast she did.

Tom Riddle was a man now, full-grown, compared to the teen that she remembered seeing in the memory.

If Hermione was not mistaken, Riddle might have sparkled a bit from the sheen of water that draped him, or there was something _very_ wrong with her eyes.

He looked like a supermodel, or a Greek God, or - _Oh, merlin's breath!_ Hermione thought as she watched Tom Riddle stride forward, shaking his wet, dark locks and combing his long fingers through them while his muscles flexed in time with his movements; in _super-super slow motion_.

She didn't know whether Riddle was doing it deliberately - putting on a show for her slowly, even though he couldn't see her, and she was not complaining in the least - or if her brain had short circuited the instant her gazed landed on Riddle's taut buttocks and the cute dimples on his lower back.

Certainly, emptying a bucket full of icy water on herself wouldn't be enough to cool down her temperature. She didn't dare look anywhere else or she might have dreams… _ahem - I mean nightmares, about Riddle_ _ **naked**_ _... and - and - Shite!_

Riddle had suddenly turned towards her, giving her a full of view of his -

Hermione choked, her face heating up and she was tempted to just merely dive into the water and drown herself for reacting like a silly teenager; even when she was one.

Swallowing audibly, Hermione tried really hard not to stare, but it was of no use, especially when curiosity got the better off of her.

After all, you don't get to see the future Dark Lord's dangly bits that often.

So Hermione _stared_ , and stared, and stared some more, until her face turned red as a tomato. Riddle was frowning in her general direction, but he couldn't see her, and Hermione was grateful for that, because she knew he wouldn't hesitate to cast an Avada curse at her for leering at him like a depraved pervert.

A moment later, the world went back to its normal pace.

She watched the future Dark Lord pivot around and stride after the others. Whether she felt relieved or slightly disappointed about him leaving, she couldn't tell, but she was certainly eyeing his _squeeze-worthy-butt_ as he was walking away.

She remained there for what seemed like a minute. When she was finally able to regain her senses - and closed her mouth - she immediately straightened up, suddenly realizing that lingering there would not resolve her current predicament by itself.

 _What to do now? Now that I can't seem to cast a spell with my wand? Should I remain here and observe them while still invisible, but faced with the uncertainty of being ultimately discovered?... Or fall back, look for a safe place to hide, and then find another opportunity to complete my mission, but risk the chance of losing their tracks?_

A war waged within Hermione. Anxiety gnawed at her stomach as she began moving towards the exit.

Pushing the blue cloth aside, Hermione contemplated making a run for it, putting a good distance between herself and the seven, dangerous men who were currently in the process of sniffing her out.

Although, after she carefully dissected Dumbledore's words, his possible hidden motives and his tendency for not completely divulging minor details about what her mission entailed, Hermione began to wonder if the blood ritual did work as it was originally intended: to keep her hidden so that she could complete her goal in ruining Riddle's plans.

She recalled what Dumbledore had told her when she was in third year. _"You must not be seen,"_ he had said right before she and Harry had used the time-turner to save Sirius.

 _Yes, this might be what Dumbledore wanted me to do all along._ She suspected after a thorough deliberation. _Being in this wraithlike form might be a boon, but it is fruitless if I can't use my magic or could not affect the things in the other plain of existence as I am now. Nonetheless, it is still too early to presume that everything is permanent._

Hermione could only hope that it wasn't the case.

 _Reconnaissance it is then._ She decided at last. _Having a good grasp on how the men worked alongside each other – to see them in action and understand how the entire group obeyed the chain of command - would be quite beneficial in the long run._

Carefully following the water trails that the men had left behind, Hermione didn't give much thought about the odd architecture of the place. She barely glanced at the paper-thin sliding doors, the polished hardwood floors, or the beautiful rock garden that she had espied upon leaving the hot spring.

No footsteps were heard as she treaded over the short hallway. And as she went further in, Hermione could hear low murmurs ahead, signalling to her that she was nearing her destination.

* * *

 **TO BE CONTINUED...**

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thank you for reading! Your reviews fuels my passion for writing so please don't hesitate to tell me what you think! If you want to see the aesthetics, story trailer and photoshopped edits that I made for the story please check out my twitter, facebook pinterest, youtube or tumblr account. But you can always contact me on _**twitter, facebook or tumblr** _so please don't be a stranger and let us be friends!


	2. Chapter 2

_Reconnaissance it is then._ She decided at last. _Having a good grasp on how the men worked alongside each other – to see them in action and understand how the entire group obeyed the chain of command - would be quite beneficial in the long run._

Carefully following the water trails that the men had left behind, Hermione didn't give much thought about the odd architecture of the place. She barely glanced at the paper-thin sliding doors, the polished hardwood floors, or the beautiful rock garden that she had espied upon leaving the hot spring.

No footsteps were heard as she treaded over the short hallway. And as she went further in, Hermione could hear low murmurs ahead, signalling to her that she was nearing her destination.

"Are the warding systems still up and running, Avery?" Riddle's familiar voice drifted out to Hermione from the open doorway.

"Yes, my lord, it is. I've checked the wards and it still holds, and there hasn't been any breach in the last hour."

"Are you quite sure?"

"I am, my lord. The system hasn't been meddled with as far as I can tell."

The voices grew distinct as she walked closer; still listening to the conversation.

"Avery's warding system is top-notch, my lord." Another familiar voice confirmed, "Both Rosier and I have tested it constantly to ensure that our location is secure, and I believe Mulciber and Malfoy have made contributions to the new arrays that have been set in the wards. The wards can't be dismantled without taking the blood from both the Warders themselves."

"I'll take your word for it, Nott. I suspect that the possibility of the intruder being human is nil. This fact was proven to me when the detection spell that I cast revealed nothing but our presence here in this resort."

 _So, Riddle has already used the Hominem Revelio spell._ Hermione deduced, pausing at the door, warily observing them from where she stood. _That still left fifty more detection spells that they needed to test, assuming that they know all of them…_

The seven men were assembled inside what looked to be a changing area. They had their wands in their hands - and to Hermione's overwhelming relief - they had donned something that resembled a bathrobes that had patterned designs in different colours of blues, reds, blacks and greens, though the clothing was too thin - possibly made of cotton - which moulded against their bodies quite snugly; from their broad shoulders and down to their waists, where she saw that the bathrobe was secured by a coloured belt of the same material.

Although their hair was sodden, and she noticed that some of them hadn't had the presence of mind to cast a drying spell just from the look on the circular wet marks on the clothing over their shoulder blades.

"We can't let this thing escape," Riddle said harshly, looking at each of his men, whose faces were now set into a grim line, their hands tightening around the wands they held.

"It might be an elf for all we know, or some magical creature that was ordered to spy on us…No matter. We must kill it and its Master before they can tip someone off from the Japanese Law Enforcement."

There was a paused as Riddle assessed the men around him briefly before saying, "Lestrange, Avery, Nott, and Mulciber, you are all going to search the perimeter for other possible intruders,"

The four men nodded silently, already moving to stand beside each other just as Riddle spoke the rest of his orders.

"Work in pairs, and utilize every single low and high-level detection spells to your knowledge, including other forbidden castings. However, if those don't work, try to detect any magical signature - other than our own - to trace the intruder's exact location. Remember that we still need information at this point. Only incapacitate, do not kill. Understood?"

"Yes, my lord," was the men's simultaneous response, and after a short glance at their chosen partner, they apparated with a sharp _CRACK_ , supposedly to locations still unknown to Hermione.

Riddle turned his attention to the remaining men, who were both waiting for his next set of commands.

"Malfoy and Rosier, you are both coming with me. We will go back to where we last sensed the creature's presence. Are you both ready?"

"Yes, my lord." Both Abraxas Malfoy and Edmund Rosier replied in unison as if they already knew what Riddle had expected of them.

"Good. Then, we must appear at the same time. Malfoy, you take the entrance while Rosier and I will take the opposite sides of the onsen. Rosier on the left while I will appear on the right. It is unclear if the thing is there, but we can't take the risk. Cast the detection spell as soon as you arrive. Use the spell to trace the creature's magical residue, which will aid us in identifying its true origin, or track down the thing to its master or where it had hidden itself. Are we clear?"

"Perfectly clear," Abraxas Malfoy replied while Rosier said, "Affirmative,"

"Prepare yourselves. In three seconds, we make our move. Starting _now_."

Hermione started counting in her mind, still gazing at the men rather warily.

 _One._

She saw Riddle shoot one final look at the remaining men in front of him.

 _Two._

Both the men responded by giving an almost imperceptible nod.

 _Three._

And just like the others before them, the three men disappeared with a loud _CRACK_ , leaving Hermione to stare at the empty space where they had been.

She stood at the open doorway for sometime, and after a few seconds of mulling it over, she concluded that it was better that she stayed put for a while and allowed Riddle, and the rest of the men, to do what they needed to do.

So half an hour later, Hermione merely watched as the men moved all throughout the place. Occasionally, she sought them out or observed them from afar, eyeing their interactions and team dynamic with a critical eye, but swiftly avoiding them when they came dangerously close to the place where she stood watching.

Grudgingly, Hermione had to admit that they were a formidable group to behold; like a well-oiled machine. And as she saw them methodically scour every corner of the resort in search for her, she clinically stored every nuances on each of them in her memory that she could analyse later (Mad Eye-Moody had advised her to do the instant she arrived.)

There was no denying that Tom Riddle ranked higher in terms of threat level upon close inspection, followed by Rosier (eight paces at best), and then Malfoy not too far behind.

Meanwhile, she ranked Mulciber as the fourth, then Avery in the fifth place, and Nott scrapping for the sixth position, while Lestrange was just... _too unique_ to have any rankings, and perhaps his unpredictability made him all the more dangerous than the other six men.

Benjamin Lestrange might not be the sharpest of the lot - and definitely the youngest - but his lack of brilliance was made up by his creativity in dark magic and his predilection for cruelty.

He was the wildcard of the group, whom Hermione needed to keep an eye on, never mind the fact that the rest were just as deadly.

Nonetheless, the information that she had gathered from both Dumbledore's words - based from Llyod Nott's memories and his personal accounts (under the influence of veritaserum), and her assessment of Riddle's gang - Hermione knew that she had barely scratched the surface regarding the men.

Yet if her conclusion was correct, she would have plenty of time to study each of them, learn more about their plans, and determine their weaknesses while she bided her time and waited to ruin them altogether.

Other than those things, Hermione also learned that the men had used an Imperius curse on the muggle owners and workers of the place, planting subtle suggestions and forcing them to stay away from the resort for three days, where they were made to believe that the place was undergoing a renovation.

The plan was sound. _Really_. And Malfoy had made certain that they had the paperwork to hand over to the muggle owners as proof for the 'renovation'. Afterwards, they had contacted some Mafia-linked wizards to alter the memories of some hand-picked construction workers in the area who would corroborate with the written manifests and other documents that were, or would be, presented; as per usual in their line of work.

Well, at least Riddle hadn't ordered his men to kill the muggles, which would just be unwise and too... _conspicuous_ even for Riddle to consider.

As the search neared an hour mark, Riddle and the rest had almost exhausted their means to locate her. Not a single spell had worked; not even the high-level charms - and a bit of dark magic - that Tom Riddle, Abraxas Malfoy, Edmund Rosier and some others had performed.

Hence, she wasn't so surprised when Riddle suddenly pulled the men aside and they adjourned to a huge room that had painted sliding-doors on each sides, a dozen thin cushions arranged around a long low table and straw mat covered the entire floor.

A part of Hermione cautioned her from entering what she assumed must be the dining area, but another part of her told her that she would miss a lot of vital information being exchanged if she remained outside, where she was certain they would block the room with a sound-proofing charm once they were all inside.

Therefore, as the men piled into the dining area - now it looked like it would serve as the meeting room for them - with their socked feet creating a soft pitter-patter sounds on the mats, Hermione had no choice but to hurriedly follow after them, her heart thudding rapidly against her chest the instant Riddle slid the door shut with an ominous _CLICK_.

Fear clawed its way up her spine when Avery, Nott and Mulciber sound-proofed the room a second later.

 _"Sonus Minou,"_ they said, pointing their wands at the close paneled doors.

Thereafter, she stood near the entrance and watched in both equal trepidation and fascination as the seven men assembled themselves on the cushions, sitting in what she figured as a traditional Japanese style.

The men sat with their their legs folded beneath their thighs, effectively sitting on their heels with their ankles turned outwards and their feet flat on the floor. At the same time, they placed their hands over their laps while they gripped their wands with one dominant hand.

Tom Riddle was sitting at the head of the table, his back towards a small alcove with a vertical calligraphy scroll hanging at the centre. The rest of the men sat on either side of him, three in each, and across from each other.

At the sight of them in that sitting arrangement, Hermione wondered how long they had been in Japan to be familiar with the country's customs.

 _Did Riddle have his men learn the culture of each country that they stayed in to improve their international relations? Or is it a way for them to blend in?_ Hermione inwardly mused, but she could guess that Riddle probably wouldn't let it passed him to use whatever means necessary to extend their influence, and that included learning the culture of their potential allies from another country.

Hermione slowly moved closer to them, choosing to stand behind Riddle to get a better view of the men's reaction who were all facing the future Dark Lord

"Our location has been compromised," Riddle began after all the men had finally settled down.

"We need to either leave the country or find another place to use as our base of operation..."

At Riddle's words, Hermione expected the men to act alarmed, surprised, or to start making a run for it with a sense of urgency.

Surprisingly, the men didn't do any of these things, because all the men had their poker faces on, and something about their lack of response was unsettling, except for Benjamin Lestrange, who remarked: "Then, why aren't we leaving this minute when the reinforcements could arrive -"

Without warning, Fabian Avery slapped the dark-haired youth at the back of his head, saying:

"You're a complete buffoon, Lestrange!"

"What?! What did I do?!" was Benjamin's angry protest, rubbing his head. "I just asked a question!"

"Not another word, Lestrange!" Riddle ordered in a chilling tone while his cobalt-blue eyes flashed with menace. "Don't even dare open your mouth!"

The Lestrange Heir instantly clamped his mouth shut, his hazel eyes glaring daggers at the blonde sitting beside him, whose bottle-green orbs were glowering in return. The rest of the men looked like they were itching to curse the youngest of their group. All their eyes pinning Benjamin Lestrange on the spot, until he appeared cowed. His shoulders slumping forward and looking more like a kicked puppy than a sadistic psychopath.

 _Lestrange has a point. Why are they still there when they assume that Law Enforcement will be there within an hour?_ Hermione thought, frowning in consternation. _Something about this situation isn't right…_

"Despite Benjamin's lack of discretion, he is correct in his assumptions. The Japanese Law Enforcement could be arriving any minute now," Riddle affirmed, his words made Hermione feel on guard all of a sudden, noticing the long eye-contact being exchanged between him, Llyod Nott, Fabian Avery and Clifford Mulciber, followed by the brief movements of their hands around their wands.

Hermione also didn't miss the slight inflection in Riddle's words when he said, 'discretion' and 'minute now' in time with their silent interactions.

 _They are on to something..._ Hermione thought suspiciously, her eyes narrowing closely on their non-verbal cues.

Benjamin Lestrange was frowning at his companions. He was obviously left out of the loop as she was.

 _Do they know I am still here?... Or are they pretending that they can't sense me right here?_ Hermione wondered quietly, but the only way to confirm her suspicion was to test it, and for her to do it, would be a death sentence.

Still, Hermione needed to know.

So, sucking a lungful of breath and summoning every ounce of resolve within herself, Hermione stepped closer to Riddle's side and slowly sat down beside him, her body coiled tightly and ready to spring out of there at the best opportunity.

Other than the flutter of those dark sooty lashes of his, Riddle mostly appeared to be unaware of her proximity.

"There was certainly something that attacked us earlier in the onsen, but I'm not sure what it was," Riddle was saying to the others while they tried to solve the mystery that was _her_.

Hermione sighed in relief when she realized that the seven men hadn't figured out that she was still there.

"Do you reckon it's a ghost that is _haunting_ us?" Edmund Rosier asked, catching Riddle's gaze for a few seconds.

Mad-Eye Moody had ingrain in her that she must noticed every minute detail of the enemy, and when she saw their short exchange, adrenaline instantly came rushing in her veins; ready to engage the enemy in combat.

"When one considers the amount of people you have killed, you all deserve to be haunted. I'm just surprised that no one has started it already," Hermione couldn't resist stating drily, and _nervously_. Testing them again.

No one heard her, of course.

Hermione had to let out another sigh.

"No, it isn't." was Riddle's cool response. "I believe it could be a poltergeist since it has the power to harm us. Even so, banishing it _five_ times would not work unless we know its true name."

Hermione scooted a bit closer to him, still testing for any sign that he could sense her.

However, in her attempts to try to get Riddle's attention, she hadn't expected to nearly topple over him when she found out that her shoulder passed through him.

At the same time, Hermione missed the final exchange between Riddle and the other men.

 _Oh, fig it!_ She mentally cursed, noting how Riddle's shoulders tensed all of a sudden.

And then, with a sharp incline of his head, Riddle and the others disapparated, but only to appear a second later around the room, blocking every exit.

The low table and the cushions vanished from the straw flooring, leaving Hermione with an area clear of barricades.

"SEAL THE ROOM!" Riddle's voice was like a thunderclap in that confine quarters, which was now flooded with the men's suffocating and malicious magical aura.

 _Shite! It's a trap!_ was her panicked realization just as she shot up to her feet.

* * *

 **TO BE CONTINUED**

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thank you for reading! Your reviews fuels my passion for writing so please don't hesitate to tell me what you think! If you want to see the aesthetics, story trailer and photoshopped edits that I made for the story please check out my twitter, pinterest, youtube or tumblr account. But you can always contact me on twitter, facebook or tumblr so please don't be a stranger and let us be friends!


End file.
